Deadwood Dicks Doom | Page 4

ruffian cried, and
the whole gang chimed in assent.
Therefore, it was as good as settled that something was to occur.

CHAPTER II.
A COMPACT WITH THE DEVIL'S OWN.
ABOUT sunset of that same day, in a lonely gulch leading off from
Death Notch, a young girl was wandering along with a basket upon her
arm, now and then plucking a wild flower, and singing the while in
spirit with the merry birds that warbled among the branches of the trees
around her.
She was at a glance an Indian, but lighter complexioned than the
average of her nation, betraying a mixture of white blood in her veins.
Attired in the picturesque garb of an Indian princess she looked
decidedly pretty, with her dusky skin, her eyes of midnight color, and
long sweeping wealth of wavy raven hair, which fell back below her
waist.
In keeping with the wild seene around her, was she, and yet happy and
free from care as the merry little chipmunk that darted across her path
and disappeared in the shrubbery.
"Pretty mountain doves a-cooing,

Sturdy robins gone a-wooing-
Wonder what all birds are doing,
So happy, all, they seem."
she sung, as she stopped to pluck a pretty blossom from its stalk.
"And, by the way, little bird, suppose you tell us what you are doing," a
voice exclaimed, and the owner, a tall, well-dressed man of
prepossessing countenance, and the owner of a monstrous mustache,
stepped from a clump of bushes where he had hitherto been concealed.
The Indian girl started violently, at sight of him, and would have run
away, but he stepped quickly forward and seized her by the arm.
"Hold on! pretty bird! Don't be scared, I will not harm you!" he said,
laughingly. "I simply want to have a talk with you."
"No! no! Siska does not know pale-face; he must let her go."
"But I can't do that just yet. Come to this log and sit down and answer
some questions which I shall ask you, and then I will let you go."
And still retaining a hold of her hand and arm, he forced her to a seat
upon a fallen tree, close by.
"There," he said, when they were both seated. "Now we are all prepared
for a nice little chat."
The girl did not reply.
She was evidently greatly frightened, for she was trembling like a leaf.
The stranger noted the fact.
"Don't be afraid, my girl," he repeated, "I'll not hurt you. Now, to begin
with, I want you to tell me how far it is from here to a place called
Death Notch?"

"A couple of miles, or so."
"Ah! so near. Well, I'm in luck. Now, what is your name?"
"Siska, sir. Please let me go. Red Hatchet would be very angry if he
knew I spoke to a pale-face."
"Oh! he would, eh? So he's one of those rabid old bucks, who is dead
set on the white race?"
"Red Hatchet is a great warrior, and his anger is to be feared."
"Well, then, when you see him next, tell him to slice me a chunk of it,
weighing about half a pound, and send it down to Death Notch. Now,
Siska, you seem to be a pretty nice girl -- how'd you like to go along
with me to Death Notch, an' keep house fer me in a snug little ten by
twenty?"
"No, no! Siska not like it. She must return to the wigwam of her
father."
"Oh, don't be in a hurry. I'll give you a lot of gold rings and other
trinkets if you will go with me -- and plenty of money."
"No, no!" the girl repeated, impatiently.
"Siska not like pale-face -- no go with pale-face. Let the Indian girl
loose, so that she can return to her father's lodge."
"Well, then you must give me a kiss, my bird of the wilderness, and
you can go."
"No, no! Siska not kiss pale-face," she answered, struggling to release
herself. "Paleface bad man, and Red Hatchet be angry at him."
"That don't matter to me. A kiss I'm going to have before you go, or my
name's not Carrol Carner. So pucker up those pretty lips, my beauty,
and submit to the inevitable."

"No, no! Help-help!" she screamed, struggling so violently that he
found it impossible to accomplish his design.
"Curse you! you are as strong as a young bear," he gritted, savagely.
"Aha! I have you now, though, and now for my kiss!"
"Not by a jugful, stranger!" a stern voice cried, accompanied by rapidly
approaching footsteps, and the next instant Carrol Carner found himself
lying at full length upon the ground while over him stood a handsome
fellow in sportish dress -- valiant Deadwood Dick.
"Ha!